


I'm not giving up on you, my love

by heamiky



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-08-10 09:36:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7839724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heamiky/pseuds/heamiky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After being robbed of her memories, Widomaker begins a mission to regain her past and there is no one who used to know her better than Lena Oxton.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First mission

**Author's Note:**

> This piece is a vague continuation of “Perhaps in another lifetime, ma chérie” but it’s not necessary to read that one first.  
> Takes place after the Slipstream incident and the assassination of Gérard Lacroix.  
> Hope you enjoy!

It became her home.

The room was dim; the only light came from the corridor through the crevice beneath the door. She was already way too familiar with that place. Even after those months she spent there, they never gave a her a blanket or piece of fabric, she could cover herself up. The made her sleep right on the metal floor, her body barely covered by the simple, green hospital gown they put her in the first time she was taken away.

She brought her knees to her chest, hugging them tightly, trying to keep herself warm. She was freezing, goose bumps kept on appearing on every single inch of her skin. Exhaustion took over her, as she laid down on her side, lips quivering. With her ear on the ground, she could hear every single step the guard in front of her cell made. It was comforting, listening to the monotone tempo of the heels hitting the grounds.

She was falling asleep when she heard the loud stomps in the distance. She jumped up without hesitation, backing against the wall of her cell. They were coming to pick her up again. She didn’t know, where she was going to be taken this time. It was getting harder and harder to tell. But when the door opened with a loud creak and she felt a sleeping dart in her hip, she knew that it wasn’t going to be good.

 

**SIX MONTHS LATER**

 

They sat her down in the interrogation room.

She didn’t move a muscle knowing, that she wasn’t supposed to anything, other than what she was ordered to do. The doctor, that took care of her _alteration_ and current slow heartbeat, entered shortly after her, bringing with her more tech and a laptop. This woman wasn’t from Talon, that was all too obvious. She didn’t have that cold, stern look, she always seemed a bit nervous when she approached the new Talon assassin, especially now, when she was no longer wearing that ridiculous gown, but was dressed in her new uniform instead.

She let the doctor wire her up, putting every measuring device she needed for what was about to come. It didn’t take long for her to realise that she was going to go through lie detector test. For what reason she didn’t know.

The doctor finally sat down.

“We will start with some basic questions to calibrate the device.” she announced, her voice trembling slightly. Was is fear or excitement that Widowmaker heard in her voice?

“What’s the colour of my hair?”

“Brown.”

“Am I wearing a lab coat?”

“Yes.”

“Is there anyone else in the room, other than the two of us?”

“No.”

“Everything looks fine…” the doctor announced, tapping into the keyboard, before looking back at her and then to her notes.

“What is your name?”

“E87B6.” she answered without any hesitation. The last time she stopped to think about it she got him in the gut with such a force she could barely move her body for several days.

“What is your codename?”

“Widowmaker.”

“Who do you work for?”

“Talon.”

“What is the punishment for treason?”

“Death penalty.” she said, although she couldn’t quite understand why she was asking her that. Perhaps to remind her again. Her _instructors_ were very clear about what would happen to her if she slipped or even hesitated. At first, it was a threat that truly scared her, even in these conditions, she feared for her life. Now she didn’t feel even the slightest flinch when she thought about some Talon agent putting a bullet through her brain.

The doctor nodded, and visibly relaxed. She seemed much more nervous that Widowmaker was. In fact, the snipper was completely calm, a bit amused too. It was interesting to watch the anxious doc never keeping eye contact with her for too long and looking frightened by her presence.

_You have created me and now you fear me…_

“What is Overwatch?”

“A group of professionals that ended the first Omnic crisis, enemies of Talon. Currently officialy disbanded.”

“What is the procedure when encountering an Overwatch agent?”

“Kill on spot, unless they can be taken hostage.”

The doctor scribbled something into her notes and turned the paper again.

“Do you know Angela Ziegler?”

“She is an Overwatch agent, field medic.”

The doctor was staring into the screen for several seconds, longer than usual. She looked like she was carefully checking Widomake’s body functions, though the assassin did not understand why. There was no reason for her breathing to change or her heartbeat go up upon mentioning some Overwatch agent. They were an enemy of Talon, yes, but she never met any of them. Why would she be emotionally reacting to hearing their names then?

When she finally seemed content with the results, she continued.

“Do you know Gérard Lacroix?”

“A _former_ large threat to Talon. Supposedly killed by his wife in his sleep.”

Once again, she was just ogling into the computer. Widowmaker just raised her eyebrows, looking ever more bored that she did before.

“Do you know Lena Oxton?”

“A former Overwatch agent, went missing in action after piloting a jet under code name _Slipstream_.”

The doctor looked at her this time. Widomaker could see something desperate in her. She seemed sad, almost disappointed in her and it made her wonder, what she did wrong. She said everything with perfect precision, as she was _thought_.

She asked the last question with a voice that audibly quavered.

“Do you know Amélie Lacroix?”

“No.”

*

Doctor Mackenzie left the interrogation room as soon as Widomaker was taken away by the guards.

She walked around the corner and entered into the hall hidden behind the glass mirror, the file with the result in her shaking hands.

“Sir.” she peeped, ducking her head down immediately after she saw figure standing in front of her.

“So, how did it go?” he asked, paying attention to something in the room behind the glass as if he hadn’t just seen it for himself.

“Her results are perfect, sir.” she answered, offering the papers with her notes to him without making any eye contact. He took them from her, scanning them quickly before nodding.

“There is a slight shift in her breathing right before you started the third set of questions. What do you make out of _that_ , doctor Mackenzie?” he wondered, pointing at the abnormality shown on her notes.

“She gets bored quite easily – she often slouches and she breathes out slowly. It is almost invisible to the naked eye, but the machine can register it. It is not connected to the interrogation itself.”

“Fair enough then. You had your way with her, it’s been nine months. Is she ready? Is she _stable_?”

“Her results from this month look well; she doesn’t seem to remember a single thing from her past, but we don’t how she will react to an actual encounter with former Overwatch agents…”

“I’m asking about your _opinion_.” he stressed out the last word, his eyebrow twitching with curiosity.

“She is stable. I do believe she can be let out onto the battlefield.”

“Very well then.” he nodded. “Move her out of the prison and into the safe facilities. She is now an active agent of Talon, but I want at least two people on her while she is in the headquarters and five when she is on a mission. She is not allowed to leave the premises of the headquarters without supervision. Between he assignments she is to be put into medically induced sleep. I want weekly reports on her condition and one after every mission. Am I clear?”

“Absolutely, sir.”

*

She laid down on the cold concrete of the roof, propping herself and pressing closer to the scope.

The battle underneath her was a mess. The police forces that had arrived about a minute ago were completely unorganised, running around like wild gooses, making it so much easier for her to shoot them. She hadn’t missed a single bullet. And she left no survivors either.

It was supposed to be a simple robbery, her orders strictly telling her no to shoot unless an open fire will begin. Of course, the team that was tasked with the obtaining the safe deposit messed up at the very beginning, attracting the attention of the police and their special task forces. However, she would hardly call them _special_.

Another man stood up from cover, peeking over the front of his car to check the situation, making Widwmaker’s score twenty-eight as she pulled the trigger, sending him to the ground with another perfect shot.

“We got the package, we are heading out, need cover.”

Widomaker stood up picking up her rifle and without any efforts jumped over the gab to the next roof, continuing over few more building before getting into a position again. She had a better angle like this and the whole task force was in her plain sight.

“They make it almost too easy…” she mumbled before firing five quick shots and taking down every single last one of the officers, letting the rest of the force scatter before reloading.

“You are clear to get out of there.” she announced into the radio, scanning the perimeter for other possible threats. It wasn’t until she reached the end of the street, when she spotted a small group of five people and a gigantic gorilla…

“Six Overwatch agents on three o’clock, head out the opposite direction.”

They were preparing to strike, she didn’t think twice about that, but she didn’t have a clear shot and didn’t want to give up her position just yet. The sound of jets made her realize that she had been found already. She turned herself around quickly, firing without aiming at the woman behind her, but only hitting the chest plates of her armour, not even piercing through it.

_Pharah..._

She got two rockets right under her feet as a response, sending her flying of the building. She barely had the time to breathe in the air that was pushed out of her lungs before grappling her hook into the roof of the house on the other side of the street, ignoring the painful burning on her feet, where the fire from the blast grazed her skin.

She flung herself right straight through a window and into the its corridor, kneeling and taking another two shots at the flying suit of armour, this time hitting her helmet, shattering the glass covering her face.

The suit started to descend, hitting the rooftop with a loud thump.

She just barely dodged a swift punch from Winston, who was clinging to the window and quickly climbing through it, and she immediately backed into the hall behind her, sending few shots his was before turning around and running for the stairs.

She ran up on the top floor, Winston hot on her heels, hoping for a miracle, when she heard the loud swishing of a helicopter, as she jumped through another window and shot her hook up.

The dull clank of the hook hitting the dark, steel plates of the aircraft was a conformation that this she got lucky.


	2. The one time she did hesitate and the one she didn’t

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said it was going to come out on Friday, but I had an entire day off, so I just wrote it down. I hope you don’t mind.
> 
> Also I realized that I’m kind of messing up the Overwatch timeline again, because they are officially disbanded and yet, Ana is still alive, please, ignore that.

Her systems were overheating, errors popping all across her broken screen, an AI voice announcing that the suit is immobile over and over again until her head throbbed with pain.

She still managed to land without hurting herself, just few bruises and one long, ugly scratch on her face caused by the shattering glass from the shot. Once she felt at least a bit stable, sitting on her calves on the rooftop, she ripped her helmet of and deactivated the suit with an emergency switch. Her jets went silent, falling alongside her back, the suit cooling down slowly. Suddenly she was just a few hundred pounds of unbearably heavy metal, being hardly able to move a muscle under the weight. She would have to spend hours in the hangar to repair the damages done. The thought only deepened her headache.

She lifted her head, when a helicopter approached the rooftops. Being this close was almost deafening, she had to cover her face with her hand to protect herself from the little bits of stones and metal now being thrown against her.

She had a second to take a good look at the sniper she was trying to get rid of and that was now hanging from the bottom of the helicopter. She couldn’t quite see her face, it was covered with a strange, spider-like shaped helmet, but what really caught her eye was the blue skin of the new Talon sniper. Pharah just gapped at her, not being able to fire due to the suit dysfunction, her rocket launcher empty. She would get her next time; of that she was sure.

Few seconds after the helicopter disappeared from her view, she heard frantic calls of her name coming from both the radio and the streets under her. Soon after that her eyes barely caught the sight of a blue flash next to her and when she finally turned her head around, it was Tracer who was kneeling next to her, trying to gently lift her up.

“She is okay, Mercy. She is fine.” she announced into the radio, getting a few sentences in German, one made purely out of swearwords, as a response.

Pharah had to smile at that.

“Hey big gal. You feeling okay?” she turned to her, concerned.

“Yeah, I think I’ll be fine. Just few scratches and bruises, Lena.” she answered, although now, when she finally stood up, she felt a sharp sting of pain coming from her chest. “Probably nothing serious.”

*

They helped her on the back of the truck they arrived in, closing the plastic covers behind her, Angela and Winston, who were trying to get her out of her armour and inspect her actual wounds.

“Did you see something more?” Winston asked, as he carefully drilled out another screw from the suit, loosening the chest plate and removing it.

“Negative.” she said weakly, her head spinning, getting dizzier with each second passed. “But we really have to be more careful next time. She would have killed me with the first shot if I wasn’t wearing Raptora. Her aim is flawless.”

She could feel Angela flinch next to her and Fareeha gave her an apologetic look.

“So, let me get this straight, what do we know about her…” Jack started, steering the truck down another dark alley. “We have a new, professional sniper on our heels. We know nothing about her, other than the fact that each shot she took was precisely aimed and most of them were fatal. We don’t know, what she actually looks like, but her skin has a bright shade of blue.” he nodded few times to himself. “Well, that’s not much. But I guess that it’s not the last time we saw her.”

*

She managed to pull herself up into the cabin of the helicopter, getting help from her former _instructors_ , who were now, after the display of her skill, treating her with much more gentle approach. Widowmaker could feel the burnt skin of her legs aching, but at the moment it was the least of her concern. Here lungs were _burning_ , she was pushing the air in and out as fast she could with every bit of her strength left, but it still wasn’t enough. She got _beaten_ by a thirty seconds of sprinting and five flights of stairs. Someone pressed an oxygen mask on her face, but she was barely conscious in that moment.

*

They carried her body back to her _quarters_ , immediately sending for doctor Mackenzie.

She was already expecting them in her room and as soon as they stepped into the door, she was already giving Widomaker first shot of atropine. They managed to sit her down in the chair, that was carried there from the med bay specifically for this reason, putting the mask back on.

“I’ll take care of it now, you can go.” Mackenzie order them, preparing the sedatives to put Widowmaker back into chemically induced sleep.

“You have second degree burns on both of your calves, third degree around your ankles. This won’t heal unless we get enough oxygen into your bloodstream, but to get to that state, you would have to endure extreme levels of pain. I will put you to sleep, you might stay like this for week or two in fact.” she tried to explain as fast as she could, gently putting the needle connecting her to the IV into her arm.

She gave her another shot of atropine when the three-minute mark has past, watching Widomaker peacefully drift to sleep.

*

They barely gave her enough time to wake before picking her up for another mission.

She was still lightheaded and disoriented when they got her onto the aircraft, where she could at least catch a breath during the briefing with several other agents and two of her _instructors_ , that were always lurking somewhere behind her back, watching her and taking notes of her progress and performance on each mission.

Her goal was to cover the other agents, but she was also given several files on the Overwatch agents that they were supposed to take care of. Six people in total, including the former Strike Commander Morrison and the legendary sniper Captain Ana Amari. They were her primary targets, although she was advised to shoot into the civilians if she had the chance as well. For what reason, she didn’t know and frankly, she didn’t care.

She had plenty of time to memorise each face in the file, carefully reading through all of them, before the captain’s alert came few minutes before they were supposed to land.

Once they hit the ground, she immediately broke away from the main group, trying to find a spot that would give her a best overview of the battlefield. She climbed up few floors on one of the abandoned buildings, propping herself on the ground, her weapon just barely peeking out of the crushed window. Her breathing was much less frantic, there was no pain, just slow, steady heartbeat.

_The doctor done something to me again…_

It didn’t take long before first shot teared through the air, piercing through the helmet of one the Talon soldiers.

“Do not engage, Widowmaker.” she heard of her instructors say through the radio.

She sighted, but followed the order without a second thought. They were ready to sacrifice their own soldiers just to kill the little group of Overwatch agents. It was cold perhaps, but very effective. Another two shots and Widomaker had a pretty good idea from where the shots were coming.

The first group of soldiers was down to single member, who fell to the ground just few seconds later.

“Widomaker, do you have a clear shot on Amari?”

“Give me a second…” she whispered, leaning against the scope, searching through the barricaded building.

And there she was. The lightest spark coming from Ana Amari’s rifle gave her hideout away.

“I have a clear shot.” she announced, settling down, finger prepared on the trigger.

“Change of plans, forget Amari for now. She is clearing them out, the agents are on the move. Take care of them, discard of Amari after that.”

He was right, the Overwatch agents started peeking out of their cover and moving the civilians to safety of their own aircraft.

_You make it way too easy…_

The panic that broke out after she started taking down each agent brought smile to her face. They had no idea where she was and before they could rush back behind the thick wall, they were already lying on the ground with wounds that would prove out to be fatal.

She turned her attention to Ana next.

She found her in the same window as she was seconds ago, but when she finally took the shot, she missed by half an inch. The shadow behind the planks moved, disappearing from her sight. There was no point in waiting for her to reappear, instead Widowmaker too changed positions and took few more shots at the agents, who were still hiding behind cover.

The bullet to her temple took her by surprise.

The force of it knocked her down on her side, yet it wasn’t strong enough to pierce through her helmet, only destroying chunk of it in the process. Without inspecting her wounds, she turned her head around and spotted the sniper almost immediately. There was a split second when they looked scope to scope, watching one another, measuring the time between their heartbeats for the perfect shot. Widowmaker expected Amari to shoot her in the time window created by knocking her down, she was ready for it. But she didn’t. In fact, the look on her face was made out of pure horror and confusion. Ana Amari hesitated, but Widomaker didn’t.

The bullet went straight through the scope of her weapon and heading for her skull, sending her down with a loud scream before everything went silent.

“The sniper is down.” she announced with a hint of pride in her voice. “Ana Amari is down.”

 

**SIX MONTHS LATER**

 

After her triumph over Ana Amari everyone started treating her with actual _respect_.

Based on the recommendations she got from both of her supervisors and doctor Mackenzie, she was moved into a new facility and given a clearance that allowed her to move through the headquarters unsupervised. She was still aware of the fact that they kept her under camera surveillance, but she didn’t care much.

She was still living in prison, she had no illusions about that. But there was no more reconditioning, no more physical punishments for disobedience, no more mental torture. She had regular training sessions now, as well as weekly visits by doctor Mackenzie to keep her condition under control. She only got put to sleep when her pain became unbearable or on the doctor’s orders.

In a way, she was feeling at ease in the headquarters.

*

It wasn’t until the boss himself called her to see him, when she finally realized how much trust she earned by taking the old Amari down.

There was something very delicate he needed her to take care of and since she was one the most reliable agents, he picked her special. She barely had any _personal_ contact with the other agents, she knew them, she trained with them, but she didn’t care for them. She felt no emotions after all. And it this case, there was also something about getting a personal revenge that made her perfect for the task at hand.

Her mission was to assassinate one of Talon’s great supporters, who seemed to have turned on them, making connections with factions that took a stand against their organization. It wasn’t exactly public knowledge, but their agents managed to gather up enough evidence to prove this accusation. The head of Talon set down a business meeting between the said target and two of highest ranking Talon agents, one of the incidentally her former _instructor_ and who apparently was a convicted traitor as well.

She was tasked to take care of both of them, while they were enjoying their dinner, leaving only the second agent alive, making it look like it wasn’t Talon who assassinated them in fact.

Sounded easy enough.

*

Everything was set to make it look as unprofessional as possible.

The trio was seated quite close to the window, so when Widowmaker got into position eight blocks away from the restaurant, she still had a perfect view of them. She was told to wait, until dark at least, letting them enjoy the last dinner of their life.

So she laid down into more comfortable position, her face pressed into the scope, watching the whole scenery under her. Her finger was gently trailing along the trigger and she had to fight the need to shoot them right then and there.

When she heard the bells of a local church ring out, she knew it was the right time. She prepared herself once again, aiming at the agent first. Her orders forbid her from going for a clean headshot as she usually did, this was supposed to be a bit messy. Her target was sitting sideways to her, so she lowered her weapon and went for a bullet into the chest. She fired right above his heart, piercing right through his lungs, letting him die in a very painful and excruciating way. The way he squirmed, trying to cover his wound with his hand, made her smile.

The second shot came quick after the first one, but this time, she aimed right for the heart. There was no reason to make the businessman suffer. It was still rather clean shot, killing him in an instant.

Panic broke out in the restaurant, even the second agent gapping at the two dead bodies next to him, running for cover because he thought he was next. Widowmaker smiled to herself, getting up from the vertical position and slowly standing up, pulling her helmet down.

She had to get down from the building and few more blocks away, where she was supposed to be picked up by car and driven back to the headquarters.

She didn’t know that there was a resident Overwatch agent near her location when she took the shot, and that the said agent was now making her way to meet the sniper.

Widomaker was heading for the fire escape, when she heard the familiar gust of wind nearby. She put her helmet back on, holding her rifle up, waiting for an upcoming attack.

_Tracer…_

She didn’t have to wait for long. There was another flash of blue light right before her as a small figure landed by her side, firing few quick rounds without aiming properly. She dodged every single one of them by rolling out of her view, firing her submachine gun and trying to get out the range by jumping to another rooftop.

She kneeled right after landing, trying to catch the agent, but it was almost impossible, when she kept on flashing around her, shooting on her each time she got onto a new position.

Widomaker knew that she couldn’t go on like this for much longer, as the familiar sensation of her body running out of oxygen became more apparent with each second the fight continued on. She set down her poisonous trap right under herself and when Tracer jumped behind her again, she manually detonated it.

Unlike Tracer, she was resistant to the poison. The Overwatch agent dropped her weapons, falling down and tumbling to the edge of the rooftop, coughing loudly, gasping for air.

Widomaker stepped out of the purple cloud, grinning to herself, sliding her helmet’s mask of. It was a truly magnificent night. She got to take down two enemies of Talon, including one of her _personal_ enemies and on top of that, she was about to kill the famous Lena Oxton.

She wanted to see the look on her face, she wanted to savour the moment. But when Tracer lifted her head, Widowmaker _stopped_. Something in her body physically stopped her from moving, the finger on the trigger falling down immediately.

There was a mix of fear, confusion and heartbreak on the girl’s face. The same look she got from the Amari before she shot her. But this time, the expression made her own heart ache.

She _hesitated_ , giving Tracer enough time to take her chance and leap across the rooftop to safety. She fired at the end, but she missed. She missed any of her vital organs by an entire _inch_. The bullet went through her shoulder, but before she could fix what she screwed up, Tracer was long gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter!  
> To be completely honest, I’m not sure when the next chapter will come out, but it shouldn’t take me longer that Friday to finish it.


	3. Curiosity

The loud beeping signalling the overheating of her chronal accelerator was the only thing that made her stop her from running any further.

She kept on blinking over the gaps of streets across the rooftops of London, running as fast as she could from the imagine that was to be forever burnt into her brain. The single second, when she saw the face of her supposedly dead girlfriend with a spiteful grin, looking at her as if she was only prey to her. She was ready to kill her in that very moment. She was aiming right at the centre of her chest into the core of the chronal accelerator.

Tracer leaned against the wall in a back alley, hidden from sight of the blissfully oblivious pedestrians, and desperately tried to catch her breath. Her shoulder was bleeding heavily, every little movement sending surges of pain throughout her entire body, but she couldn’t care less about that right now.

For a moment she was considering forgetting about the entire night, blaming the _hallucinations_ on the considerable blood loss. She could just report that she engaged on Widowmaker after hearing two shots and she got a bullet into her shoulder for it. Angela would scold her, giving her a ten-minute speech about her recklessness, but no one would know about the truth. She could go back to her work without the fear of meeting Amélie ever again. Because it all had to be some sort of nightmare that she would soon wake up from. But she knew that what she saw was impossible to forget now and that it was the new reality.

She wasn’t quite able to understand how Amélie would do such things, there was no way that Talon just persuaded someone as harmless as her to voluntarily change into a monster like Widowmaker. They would have to make her do it. Maybe Lena was right, maybe Amélie was truly dead and Widowmaker was just an another consciousness occupying her body. Just the images of what Talon might had done to her, the torture and pain she had to go through, sent shivers down her spine and her stomach spiralling

Amélie was declared dead few days after Overwatch had found Gérard strangled in his bed, his wife missing once again. Lena had more than two years to mourn over her lost girlfriend and she was finally coming to terms with it, trying her best to continue her life without her. A single second send her back into the day when she found out that she might never see Amélie again.

*

There was only one person she could go to.

She managed to drag herself back to the provisional headquarters without bumping into any other agents and headed straight for the med bay, hiding from Zaryanova, who just walked out of the gym and almost saw her hiding behind a corner. It was late past midnight but she knew that the doctor was still awake, battling her unfinished paperwork at this hour as if it couldn’t wait another day.

By the time she knocked on the door of her office her head was spinning, vision blurred. She was sure that she was about to faint any second, and she barely heard Angela calling her to come in. Lena tried to push through the door, but her limbs went limp and she almost lost the last bit of balance that kept on her feet. Luckily for her, Angela got the hint, when no one walked in and ran to the door.

“God, what happened to you?” she yelped in a sleepy voice, putting one hand on her waist and supporting her right to the chair.

“It’s Amélie.” Lena mumbled, barely conscious.

Angela ran for her supplies to stop the bleeding, but when she saw the damage that was done to joint and muscle tissue around it, she was sure that Lena would never be able to use her arm ever again if she only patched her up. At this point not even surgery would help and in her state it was completely out of question. The bullet left her body through her back, but the bleeding was way too severe. Even though it was against the protocol, Angela reached for her staff, that laid on the counter next to her and used its bright beam to heal most of the damaged tissue. When she put it away, the wound was closed, delicate, pink skin covering the hole that was there few seconds ago.

“It was Amélie.” Lena repeated, trembling.

She started sobbing loudly few moments afterwards, bursting into tears and hiding her face in her hands. Angela remained silent, however her brain was storming with questions and each silent second passing was like torture to her.

“She is Widomaker…” Lena finally spitted out, curling in the chair, pulling her knees close to her chest.

Angela was sitting quietly for a moment, hear exhausted brain trying to process the information. Amélie was supposedly dead and she couldn’t quite imagine the caring dancer turning into a coldblooded murderer that endangered every single person Angela cared about. But the more she thought about it the more it made sense. They had never found Amélie’s body. Overwatch only presumed that Talon killed her after they disposed of Gérard. Her expression blank, she stared at Lena, who desperately tried to fight the tears coming from her eyes.

“But that would mean…” she whispered, thinking about how Widowmaker took several shots at both her and Fareeha, injured Winston and Jack… How she killed Ana.

The reasonable part of her brain took over at that very second, leaving any emotions behind.

“We have to report this.” Angela declared, gently stroking the little woman’s back to calm her down. “Jack has to know about this. Lena, it won’t go away. And the rest of the crew has to prepared for what they might face.”

*

There was no one to watch her that night.

No one saw her hesitate, no one could report her failure. She just had to stay calm. Her mission went down perfectly, no one was pinning this messy shooting on Talon. She did exactly what she was supposed to do and she did with a professional precision.

On top of that, when engaged in combat, she managed to single handily take down one of the most dangerous Overwatch agents. She didn’t kill her, but even hitting Tracer was a victory. The little brit was an annoyance on the battlefield, almost impossible to catch and yet able to demolish an entire unit of soldiers on her own. Thanks to Widowmaker, she was out of the game for at least two weeks, until her injuries would heal properly. Overwatch lost one of their biggest players and Talon planned to capitalize on that.

The had planned several crucial missions for the upcoming week. Widowamker wasn’t included in any of them, her body suffered after the fight and it needed the time to regenerate again.

*

The events of that night secured her another advancement in the ranks of Talon. She received top clearance, allowing her to move on her own without any further supervision. She was allowed to use any resources that Talon offered, had access to personal files of both Talon and Overwatch agents. She was moved once more, this time into her own and personal quarters that had actual windows, any tech she might need and a large variety of weapons, traps and ammo in the closets. There were no more surveillance cameras in her room, the shadows that kept on stalking her everywhere got transferred onto another project, leaving her alone and giving her a sudden, strange sense of privacy.

*

She was lucky that nobody knew about what truly happened on that rooftop.

This was the first time she felt something that was off, that it really wasn’t coming from her mind. As if there was another inhabitant in her own brain. Seeing the little brit face to face felt like a déjà vu, like she used to know her a long time ago, but she had no memories to connect to her. There was only Tracer’s file, that was all she knew about her. She knew about her combat strategies, she knew all there was to know about her chronal accelerator, but there was nothing personal in it. She was just another enemy of Talon.

Widowmaker spent several nights going through every document the organization had on her, studying, trying to come up with the perfect way to get rid of her. But she felt like that wasn’t enough. She wanted to be prepared for the next time they meet face to face on the battlefield.

*

She found Tracer address in one of the files.

Most of Talon agents were called out to another base in England to get ready for another big mission, leaving the headquarters practically empty.

Widowmaker had the freedom to do whatever she wanted, but she still didn’t want the organization to know what she was up to. She managed to sneak out past the guards, avoiding every single surveillance camera what was covering the grounds of the base.

Her apartment was empty.

Widowmaker set herself down in the top level of a poorly guarded office building, carefully inspecting her place through the scope of her gun. There was no movement whatsoever, even her thermal cameras couldn’t detect anything. There was nothing stopping her from going through her stuff.

A strange feeling washed over her when she slipped in through the sliding doors on her balcony.

It was as if she visited this place in a dream, she remembered the way the furniture was laid out, the fluffy carpets and the colours that the flat was painted with. The scent of raspberries mixed with floral perfume coming from the bathroom was way too familiar. She had been there before.

What freaked her out the most were three framed photos that were on the stand next to the television. All three of them had a tall, raven-haired woman in them and the features of her face were way too resembling the ones of Widowmaker for it to be a coincidence.

She couldn’t rip her eyes away from the pictures. It was her, but with pale skin, wearing civilian clothes and looking _happy_. Tracer was with her, holding her hand on one, kissing her cheek on another. The last picture was filled with people she recognized; all Overwatch agents.

She never thought about what she way before she joined Talon, until now she didn’t even care. They hadn’t told her anything and she didn’t feel the need to ask. She assumed that her past had no connection to what she was doing now. But the questionnaires, her training suddenly started to make sense.

Yet she didn’t feel a thing. She was confused, but there was no anger, no sorrow, just nothing. Widowmaker moved to inspect more of the apartment to get what she truly came for, when she heard steps outside of the door and a rattling of keys outside.

She had only a second to think. She could end it right there and then, put a bullet through her and be done with it. She reached for her gun, but the photos next to her caught her eye once more.

As a sniper, she was thought patience. She could bide her time, investigate what connection she truly had with all of the Overwatch agents.

She slipped out of the door and onto the street before Lena could enter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be coming out on Saturday or Sunday. Hope you like it!


	4. The aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is either going to be really good or horrible, I let you decide.

Morrison pinched the bridge of his nose, stopped pacing around the room and finally sat down.

Angela was blankly starring at the table between them, dark circles under her eyes and her skin even paler than usual. Reinhardt shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his shoulders slouching, his face as sad as it could be.

“When did she leave?” Jack asked, his voice as weak as hers was.

“As soon as I’ve told her. She just gapped at me for a minute, then pushed me out of the way and ran off to the hangar. When I managed to get there, her Raptora suit was gone. So was she.” Angela repeated, being too exhausted to be sad about what happened.

She just wanted to give Fareeha more time to process the fact that it was Amélie who killed her mother, but she didn’t expect her to react this way. She was ready for sorrow, grief, even for anger. She prepared for her to cry, to hit something, to scream. But she just stormed off without a word, turned off all communication channels and somehow even the tracker that her suit had installed inside.

“Well, there is only one thing we can do right now. Basically all of our agents knew Widowmaker _before_ and have some kind of emotional connection to her. The only people that we can consider disconnected from everything are Aleksandra, Lucío and Hana. They will be the strike team that will be tasked to take her down by any means…” he paused for a second, looking at the doctor. “You really need time to rest Angela. Winston and Genji are already out there looking for Fareeha. I promise she won’t get into any trouble. You can go and get some sleep.”

She didn’t respond or get up, she just sat there, her expression empty.

“Angela, you are dismissed.” Jack repeated with bit more force.

She lifted her head, looked at him for a moment and then left without saying word.

“We need to get the people who would be most affected away from her. Fareeha is benched until she either calms down or Widowmaker is dealt with, I don’t need her running around going on a suicide mission every time she leaves the base. Same goes for Lena. She needs to stay out of this. We need a few people on the base at all times anyway…” he finished, scanning the reports from both Angela and Lena once again.

“I still don’t understand how we could have let this happen…” Reinhardt murmured, hiding his face in his hands.

“Neither do I.”

“You don’t think that Fareeha will do something stupid, do you?”

“There is not much she can do.” Morrison said, his brow furrowing. “She doesn’t know where the Talon base is located. There is no way for her to contact Widowmaker. I think she just needs some time alone right now. She’ll be back. I feel it in my bones.”

*

The doctor’s office was empty this at this hour.

It was one of the very few places in the entire base without any cameras and there was no one to stop her from sneaking in. Her visit to Tracer’s apartment brought more questions than answers. Part of her wanted to just get back on her job and stop thinking about the annoying little brit. But there was something constantly bugging in the back of her mind about her. She wasn’t able to let go.

She had two options. She could investigate why she was so attached to her or she could put a bullet through her and get done with it. The latter didn’t seem to work the two times she tried and trying for the third time was out of the question.

Frankly she never cared about her past, she didn’t need to know everything. But since she was a top Talon agent, she felt insulted by the fact that they wanted to keep her in the dark. She, or at least the person she used to be, had some sort of romantic involvement with Tracer and possibly close relationships with the other Overwatch agents. And it was affecting her in the _present_.

The person responsible for her reconditioning was doctor Mackenzie.

She wasn’t the one who order it, but she was definitely in charge of the science behind it. Widowmaker doubted it was voluntarily. Mackenzie didn’t seem like the type.

She went carefully through the reports on the progress of her reconditioning, remembering bits and pieces of the actual events. There was a special file dedicated to Lena Oxton, apparently getting her out of Widowmaker’s mind took the longest, only beaten by another sealed document that didn’t have a name on it and the computer she was on didn’t have the right authorization to get it.

According to what she found she wasn’t supposed to remember anything about Lena. Everything was wiped out and there were medical records supporting this. Why did she recall her then?

There were only two logical options. Mackenzie either screwed up accidentally or on purpose.

Widowmaker wanted to dive into more files, but she heard quick steps coming closer and before the doctor got to her office, she was long gone.

*

Lena slouched on couch, staring blankly at the screen.

It had been three days since she found out. Fareeha didn’t return and the team sent to look for her returned back with nothing to report. Angela hadn’t slept since the incident and was barely eating anything to such a degree that she blacked out. Then she finally slept. Morrison wallowed in self-pity about how he failed everyone, the rest of the old team retreated to their personal quarters to deal with the news in privacy. The newcomers that had no idea who Amélie was and had never met her, were rather confused about the entire situation and the effects it had on the other team members.

Jack called off any missions, the only objective for the moment was to find Fareeha. Lena was taken off duty and was now free to do whatever she wanted except the thing she wanted the most; to find Amélie and get her back home.

Lena never quite accepted the fact that she was dead.

She got into some pretty heated arguments with Jack, calling him out on the rash conclusion and the lack of interest in the matter. She tried to go on and investigate the disappearance on her own, but she found nothing. No traces, no leads. Angela and Ana were the only ones who were helping her, but it was no use. Everyone kept on telling her to try to find a closure. After sixteen months had passed, they told her to give up. At some point, she did.

And now Amélie came back to her life in a way she didn’t quite anticipating.

She was so focused on her thoughts and the numbness inside of her brain, her hearing muffled by the sound coming from the TV, that she didn’t even realise that she wasn’t alone in the room until the figure behind her spoke.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

The voice was cold, without any emotion, yet it was mocking her. She didn’t turn around; she didn’t move single muscle. It couldn’t be her. Lena tried to reason with herself, thinking that it must had been caused by the strong painkillers Angela gave her mixed with the lack of sleep and mental exhaustion.

She wasn’t really standing behind her in that very moment.

“Surprising, any other Overwatch agent would’ve already jumped at my throat. Yet, you are just sitting there. That couch won’t save, you know. Or am I so terrible to look at?”

It felt like a knife going right though her insides. The voice was so similar to hers, but it was stoic and bitterly cruel. Amélie never sounded like that. Yet, some part of her was hidden in it.

“I expected you to be a bit more _chatty_ , at least you file was implying that you were.”

“You are not really here.” Lena said with resentment, still staring right on the screen.

Widowmaker was confused.

She was both told and shown that Tracer was on the deadliest agents she could possibly face. Swift, almost invisible, a pilot with a precise aim. She was supposed to a soldier, a strong and hot-headed one. But the person sitting in front of her was barely a shell of an actual human being, that didn’t even try to fight back. It made her heart ache; it was a strange kind of pain that she felt only the time when they fought on the rooftops.

“You truly believe that I am just in your imagination.” it wasn’t a question, just a statement, but her voice was different. There was no mockery, just plain confusion. It scared Lena more than way she spoke before; she did sound like Amélie now.

“If you aren’t, then what are you doing here? Why am I even still alive in the first place?” she yelled at her, desperately trying to fight the sobs that were building in her chest.

“I’ve been asking myself the same question. That’s why I am here. There is only that much that reports and data files can give me.” There was a hint of anger in her last sentence, before she went silent for a moment. “You knew me, or the person that _was_ me.”

“Yeah, I _did_.” Lena managed to get through her clenched jaw, tears rolling down her cheeks.

Silence felt in between them, comfortable one in a very strange way. Widowmaker was taught patience, she was willing to wait to get what she wanted. She watched the girl before her tremble with sobs, hugging her own body. Something _in_ her wanted to rush over to her and soothe her, she wanted to hold her in her arms. She fought that feeling the best she could and she won, but only barely.

Instead, her eyes fell on the three framed photos next to her television.

She moved for the first time since she arrived, moving silently around the couch, looking down at the pictures.

Lena finally lifted her head, her breath hitching when she saw the woman before her.

Her dark her hair pulled into a perfect bun, the same way she used to wear it every time they danced together. Her helmet and mask were gone, showing her face that looked concentrated, her eyebrows furrowing a bit. Her expression was still empty, but there was no cruelty, no sign of the evil grimace she put on the night they first met. She had no weapons, no traps. Her hook was still attached to her arm, but otherwise she was defenceless.

“What do you want know then?” Lena asked, her voice finally calmer.

Widowmaker turned her head around, looking bit surprised by the sudden response.

“Let’s start with my name. I very much doubt that it is ‘Widowmaker’ or a code with six digits.”

“ _Amélie Lacroix_.” Lena answered, the tiniest smile appearing on her face, but the other woman was not so happy with the response.

“That’s impossible.” she said, shaking her head in disbelief. “That would mean that I was…” she went silent as everything started to fall in place.

“You were the wife of Gérard Lacroix, an Overwatch agent.” Lena voiced her thoughts, looking at her with concern. “Apparently, you were the one who killed him. Wait, you didn’t know any of this?”

Widowmaker stared at her, not being able to reply in any sort of manner. She turned herself around and started pacing through the room, completely ignoring the brit sitting next to her. It was too much to handle in a single moment. She was angry, both with herself and with Talon. She should have figured out this long time ago. Just from the questionnaires, it should have been apparent.

She was aware that she was ripped from her former life, but until now she didn’t realize what kind of life it was. If what Tracer was saying was true, then Talon _made_ her kill her husband, tortured her, threw her in a cell and reprogrammed her so that she could fight the people she used to love.

She clutched her fingers into her skull, trying to calm herself.

Those dreams she used to have from time to time, they weren’t just he imagination, they were repressed and lost memories. The pain was suddenly becoming unbearable, as she started to recall the images she only saw when she would finally fall asleep. The friendships she lost, the laughs she used to share with same people that she was now tasked to kill. The little fragments of her memories started to come together, forming a more stable vision in front of her eyes.

This couldn’t possibly be true.

“You are lying.” she hissed through her gritted teeth, but couldn’t make herself to meet her eyes.

The roles were reversed.

Now Lena was looking at the most dangerous sniper Talon had to offer, fighting with her own self, trying to keep what was left of her sanity. But unlike Widowmaker, she didn’t stop herself from doing something really stupid and potentially dangerous or lethal. She stood up, slowly, without any sudden movements and walked across to room.

She stood before her, closer than an enemy should ever get to her as she gently pulled her into an embrace, hiding her own face in the crook her neck.

Widowmaker didn’t move. She didn’t flinch or jump back, she didn’t push her away. She just stood there, letting Lena closer, until they were pressed firmly together. She let her hands fall down to her sides, just barely touching Lena’s hips, the raspberry scent of her hair calming her down a bit.

It all felt so familiar, she didn’t want to let go of her ever again.

When the phone started ringing, they both jumped, pulling away from each other.

“Pick it up.” _Amélie_ said, but it wasn’t an order, her voice was soft and weak and it cracked in the middle of the sentence.

“Promise you won’t run away?”

“Promise.”

If it truly was just Lena’s imagination, she wanted to keep it for few moments longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed, I will probably post the next chapter on Monday most likely.


	5. Business as usual

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, that this chapter took so long - I got completely caught up in Mass Effect and couldn't stop playing the damn game for days...

The creaking of the door woke her up.

She flinched, sitting on her bunk, staring at the figure who just walked into her quarters. There was a large purple bruise under her right eye, her nose was visibly broken, blood still pouring out of it, but otherwise she seemed okay. She just stood there, no knowing if she was allowed to enter after everything that had happened, looking down at the floor unable to meet her gaze.

Angela jumped out of the bed, immediately regretting it as her head started spinning and everything went dark, her knees giving up on her in the middle of the step. Luckily, there was a pair of strong hands that caught her, guiding her into a soft embrace before she fell on the floor.

Neither of them spoke, both knew what the other one would said in that moment. The guilty look on Fareeha’s face spoke for everything and the exhaustion plain in Angela’s eyes was the answer for it.

The medic curled herself in her arms, not minding the cold metal floor beneath her, grabbing a handful of the other woman’s shirt with the intention of never letting go again. She must have arrived just now, the scent of fuel, smoke and drying blood surrounding her. Angela didn’t mind a bit; it was comfortin in fact.

She still had to get up and tend to her wounds, but that could wait for few moments more.

*

The call was from Winston.

“Hey, what’s up?” she greeted him, both curious and scared. The call came on her work phone, so it must had been important.

“Just wanted to let you know that Fareeha is back in the HQ, safe and sound. Apparently, she just got into few bar fights, nothing too dangerous, at least not for her. You know how she is.”

Lena let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding and rubbed her temple, her eyes never leaving Widowmaker’s, who just stood there patiently with the slightest hint of smile on her lips.

“Man, I’m glad to hear that.”

“I also wanted to check up on you, Lena. How are you doing, with everything?” he asked, and she could imagine the concerned look that he always gave her when she got into some trouble.

“I’m doing pretty good actually.” she answered, trying not to give away any information about who was standing right in front of her.

“Okay, I won’t pry. But, you know, if you need anything, just give me a call.”

“Will do, Winston. Thank you and don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.”

She put the phone back on the coffee table, silence falling between them once again. Widowmaker’s eyes were fixated on her and she could easily tell that she was still processing what was happening.

It was unexpected and confusing to her. Whatever she was feeling was a simple mistake made during the process of creating what she was not. At least that’s what the rational part was telling her. Ever since she woke up in that prison cell, she hadn’t felt a single thing, not a single emotion; with the exception of pride and anger from time to time. But this wasn’t either of those. It was strangely intoxicating and she knew that it posed a great danger to both her and the girl standing before her.

Lena’s protection had to come first, but to do that, she had to say something.

“I still don’t know who I used to be, little one, but that smile on your face… I don’t want to give you false hope. The person that you… _loved_ is not coming back. It won’t happen. It can’t happen.” she said slowly, carefully measuring every word. It wasn’t meant to hurt her, but it did.

Lena looked away from her, reality suddenly striking her with full force. Widowmaker was still a Talon agent, she was still the enemy. Maybe Amélie was still somewhere deep inside of her and she was fighting her way back to the surface, but that wasn’t enough, it didn’t change anything.

She closed her eyes, blinking few times to hush away the tears that were threatening to pour down her cheeks again.

“It has to stay in this room. I have to… I have to work through this. Talon has been screwing with me more than I initially thought, that is true, but...” she continued, her voice hardened all of sudden.

“Leave them then. You don’t have to stay with them. Overwatch can take care of you, we…” she sounded more desperate then she wanted. Widowmaker cut her off in the middle of her sentence.

“We both know that’s not possible and that it would be rash and unwise. Just think about it, logically. Put the feelings aside for a moment. It’s just not possible. I would just put everyone in danger.”

Lena turned around, away from the other woman, as she started to tear again, fighting back the sobs. The pair of hands sneaking around her waist caught her by a surprise, and as her cold body pressed into her back and her own breath hitched in her throat. The Talon agent was pulling her close, nuzzling into her messy hair, unwilling to let go.

“Maybe I’m wrong.” She said, letting her fingers trail over her stomach. “I still don’t know what is happening to me. I’m _drawn_ to you, but only you. When I leave this place, I might not be a threat to you, but the I will be to the people you care about. There is no quick or easy way to solve this. But I can promise you that I will try. I don’t know how am I supposed to feel about you, but _this…_ This is something I don’t want to lose. I will do what I can to fight back. Until then, I need you to be patient.”

Lena nodded, resting the back of her head against the other woman’s chest.

“Does this mean you have to go?”

“Yes. But not yet, little one.”

*

She sneaked out of the widow past midnight.

Lena was still curled in the bed, now hugging a pillow instead of her body, sleeping soundly, her lips slightly parted. She stayed there for few seconds, trying to remember her like this, before she had to leave her.

She was on her way back to the headquarters when she got the call. It was an emergency, Talon needed her now, the agent on the line told her where the rendezvous point was and informed her that they have her gear with them before she could even ask.

She felt sudden unease, thinking about Tracer and the fact that she might appear on her scope. Widowmaker hopped that the little brit would stay safe in her bed and as well as her comrades. She didn’t want to see any of their faces that night. She wouldn’t be able to handle it.

The aircraft sent to pick her up arrived several streets from her original location and took her right where she was needed. She was supposed to provide cover fire, nothing too dangerous, no special targets assigned either. According to the pilot, the mission she was heading to, got ratted out to the local police and they caught the entire team inside of an old factory building. More than twenty police officers were holding them there, surrounding the building, shooting at everything that tried to escape that place.

She just had to make few dozen simple shots from the board of a moving aircraft, it was nothing she hadn’t done before. She got into position, attaching herself to of the walls in case she would fall out. She started shooting, getting one police man down after another, not even a single miss. All bullets found their targets and they killed them right on the spot. She left no survivors to tell the tale.

Despite the pilot’s worrying, no one came to save them.

There was no sign of Overwatch and she was glad for it.

*

The Talon troops returned soon afterwards.

The complete absence of Overwatch agents made their task even easier and they managed to secure several important locations for the organisation.

Widowmaker couldn’t care less.

Her head was still aching and she couldn’t breathe properly, despite her treatment. She knew that this was not really caused by her condition, but could be attributed to the discovery of her formal identity. She hid in her headquarters, completely ignoring the rest of the world, trying to sort everything out. Every time she closed her eyes, she could see the images of her past replaying before her.

When any attempt to fall asleep failed, she got up, heading straight for the Talon’s archives. She managed to push Lena out of her moment for moment, focusing on why she was even able to remember those events.

She found nothing that night.

*

“She has been going through Mackenzie’s files.” the agent reported and sat down on the chair that was offered to him.

“If that is it, then I don’t know why are you bothering me with this. She is curious, that doesn’t mean her condition is failing. Unless you have something more, get out.” the boss was irritated, especially after he found out that he had a traitor in his ranks that was responsible for five dead agents from the last mission. He didn’t have the time to go through some false accusations.

“That’s just one thing, sir. She had visited Lena Oxton’s apartment right before she was called to action. The pilot stated that he picked her up nearby the street where she lives, without any weaponry and that she was acting a strange during the assignment. Doctor Mackenzie found nothing out of the ordinary, but she has been even more asocial that usually, sir. And she has been searching through the archives a lot lately.” he added, sweating nervously.

“Is that so…” the boss nodded, taking few moments to think about all of this. “Let it slip. No punishments, no reconditioning, don’t do anything that might scare her of. No restrictions from the archives either.”

“But, sir…”

“If she is going to betray us, we will be ready for it. But Ms. Oxton has been causing us quite a lot of problems, and if Widowmaker can lure her out… We can always start with reconditioning; we can always put a bullet through her skull. But if we can get our hands on Tracer and her gear, it would give us an upper hand in this war. So, don’t do anything that would give a Widowmaker the feeling that we know about her. Keep an eye on her, but let her do what she wants. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”


	6. Torn apart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With a 'little delay', here comes the next chapter, hope you enjoy!

She didn’t return that week. She didn’t come the week after that either.

It wasn’t safe and the last thing she wanted in that moment was to put the little brit in more danger, than she already had.

She sneaked in through the window of her bedroom.

Lena was laying in the bed, clenching tightly at her pillow, the dim blue light coming through the thin fabric of her shirt and illuminating the room. She looked peaceful, her chest raising and falling in a slow and steady pace, hair dishevelled and lips slightly parted.

Her arrival didn’t wake her up. She didn’t even stir in her sleep and Widowmaker wished she could spend the entire night just looking at her peaceful figure.

When she was nearby, everything seemed easier. She was able to make peace with her mind in her presence, pushing the reality that was awaiting outside this room away. Out there she was still a coldblooded murderer and a Talon’s emotionless puppet. It was something that was out of both hers and Lena’s control. But the longer she kept going on with her missions since the revelation, the more she found herself restless, constantly replaying every kill she made.

Lena had made her feel again. All those emotions she hadn’t experienced in years kept on coming back, leaving her torn between two sides, not knowing where her loyalty laid anymore.

But in here, Lena made it all go away.

She climbed onto the bed next to her, barely touching her at first. She missed the warmth Lena’s body was emitting, the scent of her raspberry shampoo. She didn’t want to startle her or wake her up, but she couldn’t resist snuggling a little closer, inch by inch, eventually throwing her arm around Lena’s waist. Lena’s eyes suddenly flew open and she immediately pushed her away. She turned to face her, eyes wide, prepared to fight an intruder, but when she saw Widomaker’s face in the dark of the room, looking at her with her stoic calmness, she cracked a coy apologetic smile.

Neither of them said a single word, they simply laid there, enjoying each other’s company. Lena snuggled closer to Widowmaker, resting her head against her chest. Reluctant at first, Widowmaker stopped resisting and pulled Lena up against her, holding her in her arms, tucking her under her chin.

They tried their best to fight the sudden weariness that washed over them, but as the sun started appearing on the horizon, they both drifted to sleep in each others embrace.

*

They made a habit out of it.

Widowmaker would sneak back almost every night and Lena happily waited for her every time, staying up late and leaving the window that lead to her bedroom always open.

At first they didn’t talk at all. Lena was the one who made the first attempt, knowing for sure that Widowmaker would remain silent and in fact, she did. However, since she made no attempt to silence the other woman, Lena kept on talking, telling her the stories of her past, things that she could no longer recall. From her dancing, to the friendship she had with Angela and to every single detail of their own relationship. Once she gathered her courage, she even spoke of Gérard and his fate.

Widowmaker seemed to be a patient listener at first, but Lena could tell that she was getting genuinely intrigued as time passed. On occasions the tinniest smile would appear on her face, encouraging Lena to continue, whilst she kept on brushing her cold fingers through Lena’s dishevelled locks.

They only fell asleep at the crack of the dawn, both exhausted, but blissful.

*

Widowmaker disappeared before Lena woke up, leaving only the ruffled sheets and the scent of her floral perfume behind her.

No missions that Talon had scheduled for the few upcoming days concerned her, she was free to do whatever she wanted. However, spending too much time in the Overwatch agent’s bedroom was risky and she didn’t want to draw any more attention to herself than she already had in the last couple of weeks.

She returned to the headquarters, walking past the sleepy agents who just nodded at her instead of any greeting and rushed to get their first cup of coffee that morning. Widowmaker almost made it back to her personal quarters, when she ran into doctor Mackenzie, who had a rather concerned look on her face and a stash of papers clutched to her chest.

“Good! There you are. I was worried when I couldn’t find you in your dormitory.” she said, but when Widowmaker didn’t respond and just stared at her blankly, she elaborated. “Your weekly testing. It’s today.” she added.

Widowmaker fought every fibber of her being not to move a muscle, flinch or give out anything that might look incriminating. She never had never missed an appointment, was always so punctual. But with everything that was going on, her mind constantly drifting to Lena and her past, it just slipped out of her memory. She kept her cold deadly stare, face as if it was made out of stone, showing no emotion whatsoever. She breathed out, pretending to be bored and bothered - a reaction that would be normally expected of her.

“Of course it is.” she mumbled and massaged her temples.

“Shall we go now or do you need some time to rest?” the doctor asked, way too polite for someone who had been a part of an organisation like Talon, even unwillingly.

“Better sooner rather than latter. I’ve taken enough of your time already.”

*

Something was off that day.

Everything in Talon was carefully thought through and planned out perfectly. Whenever something seemed just a bit off, in her experience it meant trouble.

Widowmaker went through two hours of examinations, tests and questionnaires, trying to hide the sudden curiosity that sparked inside of her in regards of what was Talon planning to do with her next. Knowing the organisation for so long and from every possible point of view, it couldn’t be good.

In the years she spend being their prisoner she learnt to expect the worst. That meant she hadn’t been careful enough, she had left too many traces, making her look suspicious and now they were on to her again.

Once the doctor discharged her, she retread to the privacy of her own quarters, if there even was any left. She would not be surprised if they had installed the surveillance cameras back on while she was away.

As always, she sat by the small desk on which she had dismantled one of her sidearms to do a regular checkup of the weapon. She picked the pieces up and started to clean each one carefully.

She needed to think.

The world she had known was gone, years of _work_ and effort Talon put into her was destroyed thanks to few photos and a very annoying brit. And just like that, she was not longer able to see the path that she was supposed to take. Enemies turned into friends and loved ones, the allies she had into enemies that might had been working on a prefect way to get rid of her. Torn in between running back to Lena’s apartment, hiding in her embrace and storming the Overwatch headquarters, ending her own past with a few bullets, she choose neither.

It was impossible to make up her mind. Her thoughts kept on buzzing inside of her skull like some sort of annoying insects, memories kept of flashing in front of her eyes and she never knew, whether they were real or just a hopeful creation of her mind. In that moment she wished to be an empty emotionless shell, that felt no remorse or regret.

She put the assembled gun back into her locker and leaned against it. If her hunch was right, she had only a little time left before Talon would take action.

She picked up her sniper rifle and left the headquarters, knowing that next time she would return it would be as a prisoner or a corpse.

*

Widowmaker headed to the address that was mentioned in Mackenzie’ files. She wasn’t just going to throw the rest of her time away and she was keen on finding out what kind a leverage Talon had on the doctor.

She propped herself on a construction site near the doctor’s apartment. This part of the new building was free of workers, most of them were preparing new foundations on the far side of the site. She heard their headman shouting at them on occasions, the loud roaring of their tools interrupted the silence a few times, but otherwise she was alone.

She leaned into she scope, trying to find a more comfortable position in the rubble she laid in. From this high up she got the perfect view of the neighbourhood. All that was left to do was to wait.

The sun above her head was slowly setting on the horizon, covering the sky with crimson red, when she finally caught something interesting on the street she was carefully observing.

An elderly man walked into her view, and next to him, a little girl with a shiny colourful schoolbag on her back. She kept on bouncing around the old man, laughing and playing with the fallen leaves that covered the street like a carpet. The older man was smiling at her as they walked to their home, but his face was tired, the dark circles under his eyes showing that he hadn’t slept soundly in several weeks, his eyes darting around the street as if he was expecting some sort of danger.

The girl seemed absolutely oblivious to anything that might had been scaring him. Widowmaker zoomed closer, examining her features. The girl resembled doctor Mackenzie way too much for it to be an accident, she had no doubt that she was her daughter, sister or some sort of close relative. But it was a strange pink scar hidden under her wild hair, just bellow the earlobe that caught her eye. Kids get hurt all the time, however this was no scratch, it looked more like a precise surgical wound.

Widomaker lifter her head from the scope and frowned. She was familiar with these sorts of scars, often she had seen them on bodies of people, who betrayed Talon before, and were given a second and final chance to redeem themselves. They hid a simple socket of toxins, that could be activated at any moment even from long distances. Widowmaker was under no illusions about Talon’s methods of dealing with troublesome assets, but bringing a little kid into this in a form a blackmail…

She left her position, her mind racing for a way to help the girl. Her own skills were no use, she knew the basics of first aid, but medical knowledge ended there. Extracting the socket out of her body would require surgical precision and there was only a one doctor who could possibly help her.

*

It was a stupid thing to do, but it was the only solutions she could think of. However, when she climbed in through the window, she found the apartment empty. Widowmaker was sure that Lena was still benched, that she would remain somewhere near her home at all times. The hope that built up in her on the way was suddenly gone.

She leaned against the door and slid down to the floor, leaving her rifle beside her. She could just let it go, she didn’t own the doctor anything, in fact it was Mackenzie, who was responsible for her alteration, tough it might had not been her idea. Mackenzie hadn’t done a very good job either, if she had, Widowmaker wouldn’t be crouching on the floor in her enemy’s apartment, thinking about how she could save that little girl.

She heard radio static in her ear and shot up from the ground.

“Widowmaker, do you copy?” said the voice in her ear.

She exhaled, waiting her breath to slow down before replying.

“I’m here.”

“The team that was sent to Paris fucked up, the captain got most of our guys killed and they now require backup. Get back to HQ before 0100. Understood?”

“Understood.”

The signal faded back into static and then disappeared completely.

Widowmaker didn’t waste any more time, jumped to the side table that was placed beside the door and grabbed the piece of paper that Lena used for shopping lists. She scribbled down the address and the details, adding the note ‘bring Angela with you’ under it.

She caught herself wondering if she will see Lena ever again or if this is the last thing she will ever tell her. There was no running away from Talon, they would find her anywhere she would hide.

She turned the paper in her hands and started writing down her goodbyes, apologising to Lena for the pain she caused her and the people she loved and thanking her for the last bits of happiness she brought to her in the past weeks they spent together. She put the paper on her dining table, moving the photo of the two them and placing it above it, so Lena would notice immediately after walking into the room.

She wondered of the apartment, fighting back the tears that were threating to pour down her cheeks. If she got lucky, Talon would make this quick and Lena would never have to see her again.


	7. Unconditional surrender

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long, school has been crazy lately, but I finally had some time to sit down and write. The next chapter should be out next Friday. Hope you enjoy!

Lena returned back home with crack of the dawn.

She spent most of the night chasing a group of local thugs across the city. Every muscle of her body was aching, her accelerator was blinking faintly every now and then, her knees were threatening to give up under her own weight. She smelled of smoke and oil and couldn’t wait to finally jump into the shower and then slump into her bed.

She walked through the hallway, putting her goggles and guns away, and was about head for the bathroom, when she spotted the photo frame placed on her dining table. She frowned slightly, wondering how it got there, walking over to the room to take a better look. She found the neatly folded note hidden under the frame and couldn’t stop the grin that spread across her face.

"Leaving notes already? You are becoming a sap…" she mumbled to herself.

The smile disappeared from her face the second she turned the page around and was replaced with panic and horror. For a moment she didn’t even believe this was real, she was almost sure that she had already fallen asleep somewhere in her apartment and that this was just some horrible nightmare that she would wake up from soon.

Her eyes kept on scanning the text frantically, reading through every line over and over again. Her hands started trembling, until she couldn’t even decipher the words, tears spilling down her cheeks. She crumbled down on the floor, pulling her knees closer to her chest, loud sobs escaping her mouth against he will.

She lost her once already a now she was about to loose her again.

*

She found Angela laying half-asleep on her desk, her reports and studies scattered all across the table. She stirred when she heard someone enter her office, but was to exhausted and sleep-deprived to care in moment.

Lena walked over to her, squeezing her shoulder and shaking her up. Angela groaned at the intruder, lifting her head slightly and was about to make some excuse to make Lena go away and let her sleep. However when she saw her puffy red eyes and determined look, she jumped off her chair in an instant.

"Lena, what happened?" she asked, her throat sore and dry.

The only response she got was the note that Lena found in her apartment.

Angela wasn’t quite sure how to react to either the cryptic message at the beginning or the the rather personal note on the bottom of the paper. She glanced at Lena and guessed the last part was the reason for her tears but she didn’t push for any details out of sympathy.

"How do we know that this is not a trap?" she asked, rubbing the rest of the sleepiness out of her eyes.

"I just know." Lena’s reply came out harsher than she intended, her voice still hoarse and throat sore.

Angela looked at her pale emotionless face again before nodding silently, returning the note and quickly moving to pack up her gear with few extra tools she might need.

"Can you at least tell me who that girl is? What her tie to… Amélie is?"

"I have no idea. She never mentioned her."

Angela straightened, turning her attention from her bag back to Lena.

"She never mentioned her _when_? Lena, stop looking at me like this and answer for goodness sake. You’ve been meeting with her? For how long?" the doctor was stunned with face carved from cold stone.

Lena breathed out, this was not something she wanted to go over at that moment. Ultimately it didn’t even matter anymore, she just wanted to help the little girl and then run after Amélie. She was sure that Angela would try to stop her and that she would later report her to Morrison, yet she was determined to take the Talon headquarters by storm and was willing to take any of their agents down, carving herself a path back to Amélie.

Instead of answering the doctor’s question she just stubbornly shook her head, ending any future conversations on that topic. In other circumstances she would give in and would tell Angela everything, but not tonight. Angela sighted, feeling the migraine forming in her head, trying to stop it by massaging her temples with her palms; it was simply too much to take in one moment.

"Let’s go then. Lead the way, Lena."

*

She arrived at the headquarters before the set deadline.

She left her gun loosely hanging from her shoulder, holding her helmet by her side, it was the most non-threating look she could put on. She didn’t come to fight.

The building was mostly empty, no doubt it was cleared out in case she would want to cause trouble. It wasn’t the greeting she was expecting.

"Just the two of you? I feel insulted." she tried her best so sound snarky, but she felt her slow heartbeat pounding against her chest in anticipation combined with fear.

One of the men hiding in the shadows stepped out, hands crossed on his chest, and starred down at her. He looked tired more than anything else, she could see the twitch in his fingers firmly pressed into his biceps. No matter how well they hid their fear, they were still scarred of her.

"Boss said you would come willingly." he said. "Was he right?"

Her eyes were scanning his figure still half-hidden in the dark, there was no way that he and his partner, who apparently wasn’t too eager to join them, were the only troops send for her.

She sighed and shook her head in disbelief. Then in one quick motion she threw her weapon at his feet, her hood landing right next to it. She knew ever since they captured her - there was no running away from Talon, there was no fighting them either.

The agent nodded and visibly relaxed, letting his hands fall down to his hips.

"A good choice. It will safe you a lot of trouble, trust me. Not all of it, but some."

"Trust me," she growled at him when she saw the sickening smile growing on his face. "There is hardly anything you can do to me now."

*

Sneaking out of the base and stealing one of the only vehicles still available was the easy part.

Most of the other agents were either asleep or out in the city, simply enjoying the quiet while it lasted. They nearly ran into Zaryanova, who was leaving the gym after her evening workout, but Angela was quick to make up an excuse for running around so late at night and Zarya seemed too tired to care anyway.

Given the emotional state Lena found herself in, Angela immediately plucked the car keys from her hand, giving Lena an apologetic look, while the brit climbed into the van next to her. They stayed in uncomfortable silence for the rest of the drive, Angela had no intention on pushing for details and Lena was blankly starring out of the window, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand every now and then.

They arrived at the given address sooner then they expected. Angela swallowed, she didn’t like this situation one bit. It was a while since she had to work in the field, she spent most of her time hiding in her lab and office and hardly ever left the base. She was completely out of her comfort zone, absentmindedly stroking her new titanium hand, feeling the cold metal that replaced her skin and muscle.

Lena jumped out of the car without even looking at her, walking right towards the building. In tore Angela out of her thoughts, as she grabbed her medical supplies from the back seat and rushed across the street to Lena, who was already searching through the first floor.

Angela followed her in silence, mentally preparing herself for what was about to happen and for the possible outcome as her hands started to shake slightly. Lena suddenly stopped before one of the doors on the third floor, starring at the name that was written in beautiful cursive under the bell.

"Ready?" the brit mumbled, her voice still rasped.

Angela looked into her tired eyes and without any hesitation nodded.

"I’ll do the talking." she added, before pressing the bell and knocking lightly on the door.

There was complete silence, right before they heard cracking of the old floorboards and steps slowly coming closer to them. An old man peeked out of the door, glancing at Angela first. His brow furrowed when she saw her huge back cramped with medical supplies, when he turned to Lena, something in his face changed. It wasn’t that surprising, Lena used to one of the poster girls back in the old days of Overwatch and she barely changed over the course of years, she was still easily recognisable.

"What do you want?" the man barked at them, leaving the door half closed, prepared to slam it right in to their faces.

"We know about your granddaughter. We came to help."

"Get out of here! If they find out you were here, they will take her away!" he yelled and moved back into the flat, trying to close the door behind him.

Lena stepped forward, moving her foot between the door and the frame.

"If you don’t let us help her now, they will kill anyway, eventually." her voice dropped, she was basically growling at him and with the dead stare she hardly looked like someone who was trying to help. "It might be tomorrow, in a week, or maybe next year, but once she useless to them, they will kill her."

Angela put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed firmly, stopping her from continuing.

"Trust me," she spoke, trying to calm the old man. "We wouldn’t be putting you into danger if we weren’t a hundred percent sure. We have the equipment and recourses to help her, you just have to let us."

Lena was taking a breath, ready to say something, but another firm squeeze stopped her.

The emotions in the mans face were shifting rapidly as both of them watched him, until he just shook his head and he stepped aside, letting them in.

"She is in the living room." he murmured, closing the door behind them.

The girl they were looking for was peeking from behind the couch, hidden under a fort made of pillows and a blanket. Angela only guessed that this wasn’t the first time that someone _visited_ them like this. She approached her slowly, trying to smile at her and be as genuine as possible, all while she heard her own hearth-beat against her ears.

"It’s alright, Connie." her grandfather spoke from behind them. "They are here to help us. Come out, it’s safe."

Lena was standing near the windows, checking for any sign of danger or a trap, her hands brushing against her accelerator.

The girl sneaked out of her fort, slowly walking towards Angela, constantly looking at her grandfather for reassurance. Her hair was pulled into a messy ponytail and so Angela didn’t have to look for too long. The fading pink scar was clearly visible from where she was standing.

"I’ll just take a look at this, okay?" she asked, gesturing to the scar and smiling in encouragement.

Connie stepped closer to her, turning herself sideways and tittling her head to the side. Angela knelt beside her, quickly pulling her gloves on and the gently brushing the skin around the wound.

It seemed normal at first, but when she pressed a bit harder, she could feel a small, firm object hidden right under the skin. She frowned and turned back to her grandfather.

"I can’t tell what it is, but we better take it out." she stated.

The blood drained from his face and he ready to launch himself in between Angela and his granddaughter, when Lena stopped him.

"It won’t be as invasive as I thought, it will over quickly, I promise." she tried to calm him, glancing down at Connie, who was starring at her in confusion. "Go pack your things. We will have to leave this place as quickly as possible, once I’m done."

*

Her eyes quickly adapted to the darkness that surrounded her.

She hardly remembered anything that happened, her last memory being a sharp sting in her neck and then the sudden exhaustion as her paralysed body fell to the ground, loosing consciousness shortly afterwards. She briefly woke up to the rattling of an engine, but before she could do anything, they put her back to sleep with a stronger dose.

She breathed in and out, trying to loosen her sore muscles. Her legs and hands were carefully strapped to the armchair she was sitting on, biting into her skin and leaving he limbs numb. She tried to move around pulling at her restrains, but it was no use.

Exhausted, she fell back into the chair, breathing heavily.

She barely had the time to fully regain consciousness, when she heard loud thumping of military boots against the metal floors. She frowned and straightened in the chair.

The door suddenly flew open with a loud clank and three women stepped inside the barely lighted room.

"Already awake, what a lovely surprise." spoke the tallest one of them, wearing an officer uniform, her face unfamiliar. Her two companions were pushing in a large cart, completely stocked with different torture instruments.

"I see you are well acquainted." something in her sweet voice was making Widowmaker sick. "Good, no need for introductions, then."

Widowmaker sighted and rolled her eyes, visibly relaxing in the chair. This was nothing compared to what she was expecting.

"You must have been misinformed." she said. "Physical pain just isn’t a thing for me."

"Oh, don’t worry about that." she laughed, gesturing the other agents to leave them alone. "You are probably thinking that I’m here to torture you to get information or that I was send to recondition you yet _again_."

Widowmaker sat silently, lips pressed into a tight line.

"An _asset_ such as yourself should be used until it perishes, doesn’t matter if they happen to be a traitor." she turned away from her, moving to the counter and carefully picking the right instrument to use. "I’m here to make sure that you further _cooperation_ with Talon goes as smoothly as possible and to prepare you for your next assignment." she finally found what she was looking for and her eyes glowed a little when she picked up massive pair of pliers.

"Shall we begin, then?" she asked, but before Widowmaker could say anything, the other agent squeezed her index fingers with the pliers, breaking every single bone. Widowmaker growled in pain and curled in the chair, her arm instinctively flexing. She didn’t get a chance to recover when another of her fingers snapped, sending another a surge of pain through her body.

"This is going to a long night."


	8. The split

Angela took another deep breath trying to calm her shaking hands before her scalpel sunk under Connie’s skin.

The room was as sterile as they could manage in such a short time, the had drugs finally kicked, sending Connie into a peaceful slumber so she wouldn’t have to experience any of this first hand.

Lena was keeping her grandfather in the other room, carefully watching his every move, glancing behind her back to see how the surgery was going. He on the other hand was strolling impatiently from one side of the kitchen to the other, having second thoughts about the entire situation, grunting under his breath. Angela was still worried he might just step over her tiny coworker, burst into the room and unintentionally harm Connie or herself.

She found the death switch faster than she initially anticipated, pulling it out with precision without damaging the surrounding tissue or veins. It didn’t took her long to realise that she was starring down at a carefully wired piece of explosives attached to a detonator meant for a remote control. A trickle of cold sweat ran down her spine as she swallowed the lump in her throat, she couldn’t imagine what kind of a person would put something like this in a body of a little child.

Not taking any further risks, she threw the explosive into a unfinished cup of tea on the far side of the table, returning her full attention to tending to the wound, closing it quickly and stitching the skin back together. She cleaned most of remaining blood off, inspected her work and finally took of her gloves. Standing up, she whipped her brow covered in sweat with the back of her hand and finally let out the breath that she didn’t knew she was holding all along.

"It’s done!" she called out, as Lena poked her head out of the door frame, immediately followed by Connie’s grandfather.

He ran over to his granddaughter, who was still enjoying the peaceful, drug induced sleep, her breathing steady and even, heart beating strong in her little chest. Angela silently stepped away, packing the rest of her supplies and watching the two of them. She spotted the tears that were forming in her grandfather’s eyes and she wanted to turn away and give the two of them some privacy before they would have to leave, when she felt a hand grabbing her forearm. She stopped in her tracks and turned around, meeting his gaze and grateful smile.

"I was so scared when I saw you at the door." he managed to push out of his lungs, choking on sob. "I don’t how can I thank you enough."

Angela gave his shoulder a firm squeeze and smiled back.

"You don’t have to thank me for anything." she paused for a second, looking at Lena, who was now pacing through the kitchen. "We will just finish packing up and then we will head out, okay? Just give us a moment."

She walked over to the other side of the room, approaching her slowly.

"You are coming after her, right?" she asked gently, knowing how distressed Lena was and that she had no chance of talking her out of it.

The brit just nodded, not looking her in the eyes.

"You are going to report me to Jack, are you not?"

Angela frowned at the thought and shook her head.

"He will have to figure this one out on his own, I’m not telling him a single word."

Lena finally looked up to her, a hint of smile appearing on her lips for a split second.

"I don’t want you to go alone, you need some sort of backup…"

"It’s better this way. Easier, too." Lena cut her of before she could continue. "I will get to her, somehow. I… I might have stolen some of Jack’s data of the possible locations of Talon headquarters." she grinned, pleased with herself. "By accident of course. Anyway, thank you for coming with me tonight." she paused. "I just have one question."

"Ask away."

"Jack isn’t planning on giving her another chance, is he?"

Angela bit her lip and shook her head again.

"I don’t think, he is. She killed a lot of people that he cared about, that all of us cared about and he doesn’t forgive easily. Plus," she continued. "She would forever be a reminder of how much he messed up, and he wont let that happen."

"Thanks for the honesty." Lena said, but her shoulders visibly slumped. "So I guess this is a goodbye, kinda?"

"Lena…"

"You know, if I actually find her and we survive all this, I can’t go back. At least no straight away. You just said it yourself, Jack wouldn’t let her stay."

Angela remained silent for a moment, trying to figure out at least something that might help her. She quickly walked over to the table, grabbed a piece of paper and started scribbling frantically.

"What are you doing?"

"Writing down the address of my old house in Switzerland. Talon wont find you there, Jack and the rest wont know where the two of you are hiding, but if there should be an emergency, medical or any other, I will know where to look for you. It’s close to the hospital I’ve worked in, people in there will help you out, if the need should arise. And considering Amélie’s state, it probably will. Here." she offered her the piece of paper with the key she pulled out from the pocket of her coat.

Lena was starring down at it, her mouth hanging open for several seconds.

"I can’t accept this." she whispered after a moment.

"You have to. Otherwise I will throw you back in the car and we are going back to the headquarters right this instant."

"Thank you, Angela." Lena stepped forward, giving her a long bear hug.

"Just make sure that you call me, when you get there, okay?"

"I will. I promise."

*

She slammed the car door behind her, stepping out and bracing herself for what was about to come. She was _welcomed_ with a series of grim faces of her coworkers and friends, judging her even before she had the time to explain herself. She only guessed that Jack had told them that she and Lena had sneaked out of the headquarters and added something that he made up out of assumptions. Only Fareeha immediately stepped from under the roof, running over to her to help her with the bag and to give a her firm squeeze, holding her in the air for a second.

"I was so scared." she murmured into her hair, putting Angela back on ground with a sheepish smile. "Where were you?"

Angela didn’t say anything, she just led her to the back seat, where Connie was resting, slowly waking up and regaining consciousness.

"I will explain everything later, but I need to get her to medical, asap." she said, ignoring Jack, who was now standing next to the car with the most angry and disapproving look in his eyes that she ever witnessed, hands crossed on his chest.

"Where is Oxton?" he asked, while Fareeha carried Connie with the help of her grandfather back into the headquarters.

"I don’t know." she said blankly, looking him straight in the eye, meeting the gaze that was supposed to scare her.

"She could be in serious danger. You are not doing her a favour by this." he hissed, his voice threateningly low.

"She is a big girl, Jack, she can handle herself." Angela said, ending the conversation and walking right pass him and some of the older officers, who didn’t look very pleased with her either.

"Angela, I’m ordering you…" he started, but was immediately cut of.

"Well, too bad you are no longer the Strike Commander, right, Morrison? You are not giving the orders anymore." she stopped for a second. "I’m fully aware of what Amélie has done and I’m not saying we should pretend like nothing happened and forgive her all of a sudden. But we let this happen to her in the first place and we didn’t do _anything_ to help her. We did literally _nothing_. So cut me some slack and stop starring at me like I’ve just betrayed you and deserted to Talon."

*

Despite her hurry she didn’t use her accelerator to travel through the city.

She was fully aware that if she wanted to get to Amelié, she would have to carve her way through dozens of Talon’s agents before the night was over. She was storming through the streets of London, checking every site that was on her rather short list, looking for any signs that she was indeed nearby Talon’s headquarters or at least a small base.

It was long past midnight when she found herself standing in front of the last building mentioned in Jack’s notes. She was looking up to a luxurious office building, that seemed completely abandoned. She shook her head in disbelief - this couldn’t have been it. She had hopped she would eventually run into Talon on her way, that they would lead her to Amélie, she had been expecting everything else other than this.

"Oh, come on!" she yelled at the top of her lungs, scaring a random man just passing by. "We are fighting them for two years guerrilla style and we don’t know where their fucking HQ is?" she threw her hands hopelessly in the air, crunching down and trying to figure out what to do next.

She turned her head just in time to blink away from a bullet that landed in the spot she had been a moment ago. A hushed sound of crunching leafs gave them away at the last second.

She hid behind parked cars in nearby alley, carefully scanning the field and looking for any sign of movement, somewhat excited that they finally caught her trail and attacked. For a long minute everything was silent, the only thing she could hear was the wind scattering through the streets. Something in her snapped, she had waited long enough and she no longer had any time to loose.

Lena blinked in between the close-by buildings, getting into the upper levels and overseeing the battlefield. She spotted a group of snipers sitting on the rooftop right next to the corporate building and she jumped over to them without any hesitation, heart pounding in her chest with a strange sense of excitement.

They might have spotted the faint light of her accelerator, but it was way to late to save them. They barely had enough time to turn to face her and she was already blinking behind their backs again, taking them down one by one. As she suspected, they weren’t the only group nearby.

She heard another gunshot, but the shooter missed her by several inches, hitting the concrete under her feet instead. She switched positions again, pushing her accelerator the it’s limits and only stopping right above the three men hiding on the roof of a apartment building across the street. She took two of them down without any problem, the third had escaped her however and instead of trying to shoot her down like the others, he pulled out an army knife from his breast pocket and ran right towards her.

She tried to blink away to put some space between them, but her accelerator only hummed faintly, not moving her an inch. She dodged his attack at the very last second, grabbing his hands in an attempt to disarm him, but to no end.

The door covering the stairs to the roof suddenly flew open without any warning as more men from the unit poured onto the roof. They swarmed her before she could run to either side of the roof, cutting any possible escape path in the process. She looked around hopelessly, her accelerator humming quietly but not responding to her commands. She was trapped and aware that she had nowhere to run.

Before she could had done anything, one of the agents stabbed a needle into her neck, sending her down on the floor unconscious.


End file.
